


How to Care for Your Young God

by Gotcocomilk



Category: God of War
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, The entire purpose of this fic is to feel warm and fuzzy, This is just father-son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gotcocomilk/pseuds/Gotcocomilk
Summary: Years after the start of Fimbulwinter, Kratos notices Atreus isn't growing. This is a problem.





	How to Care for Your Young God

**Author's Note:**

> Translation in Russian available [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6995333), curtesy of [fox_in_the_scales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fox_in_the_scales/profile). Much thanks! :)

The start of Fimbulwinter was three years gone, and Kratos had a problem. It had little to do with the cold weather— when not even the eternal chill of Hel could touch his skin, a snowstorm, no matter how providential, did little. The boy didn’t seem much bothered by it either, and though the head complained constantly about snowflakes in his hair, his lips had yet to turn blue.

  
No, Kratos’ problem was far more severe. In the three years since Faye died, Atreus hadn’t grown even a hairsbreadth. At first, he hadn’t really noticed. The boy was a bundle of constant energy, bouncing from adventure to adventure with near-boundless curiosity. He’d developed quite the silver tongue when speaking with the few inhabitants they encountered; rather than passing out promises to help, he extracted bargains. Kratos was grudgingly proud of this, though it did mean allowing for the occasional deafening conversation with Jörmungandr or one of the dragons the boy had managed to coax into friendship.

  
But after a year, the Spartan had started to notice his son’s static height. After two, he had begun to worry. When the three-year mark rolled around, Kratos finally acknowledged he had a problem.

  
At first, he tried to discern the cause himself. He checked over the bodies and weapons of any enemies they fought for poisons. He had the head check for curses or spells. He gruffly demanded the bickering dwarves add extra protections to Atreus’ armor. For a brief moment, Kratos worried about it being the sudden onset of cold— but the boy was half ice giant, and he quickly dismissed the thought.

  
Desperate, he considered swallowing his pride and going to Freya. The witch’s ire towards him had not cooled, however, and he could not be sure she was not responsible for this ailment in the first place. No, the better plan was to exhaust his options before considering anything like that. Options meant asking the most knowledgeable being in the Nine Realms, unfortunately.

  
Mind made up, Kratos waited until the next time the motley crew returned home. Long after Atreus was asleep, Kratos threaded his fingers firmly in Mimir’s hair and pulled him out of the small blanket bed the boy had made for him. The head spluttered awake.

  
Before he could speak, Kratos quickly placed a palm over his mouth and walked out of the small house. He could feel the head muttering against his skin, and the muffled sounds sounded vaguely like curses. The Spartan ignored this.

  
Outside, he released his burden, settling the head on a nearby stump. Immediately, Mimir spoke up.

  
“Oh, this had better be good.”

  
When Kratos didn’t immediately reply, Mimir’s irritated look faded to one of worry. “What is it, brother? Something be wrong?”

  
“The boy.”

  
“Is something wrong with the lad? I’ll tell you everything I know, we can fix it.”

  
“He isn’t… growing.” The words were ground out, pulled from between the Spartan’s unwilling teeth.

  
There was a moment of silence, potent and heavy, before Mimir’s raucous laughter filled the clearing.

  
“Well of course he isn’t growing, you don’t fuckin’ feeding him! For the love of Yggdrasil, what do you think he could use to grow? Air? The goddamned dew of the ages?” Kratos shifted. This… had never occurred to him. Had Faye fed Atreus while he was away? He couldn’t remember, he realized, and began to feel guilt gnawing at his stomach. But gods did not need to eat— he certainly hadn’t consumed anything but ouzo in decades. He voiced this thought to the head.

  
“Sure they don’t, when they are all full grown. Do you think Thor got to be the terror he is by fuckin’ fasting?” Mimir didn’t wait for a reply, rolling over Krato’s thoughts like a siege engine. “Holy Hel, we will have to make an entire diet plan. Did Faye handle all of this? How have you even kept the boy alive? Did, did this really never occur to you?”

  
Kratos shot a glare at the other man but couldn’t refute any of Mimir’s statements. Guilt-ridden, he grabbed the head and strode out of the clearing, determination lining his steps. Mimir’s cackling laughter had died down to giggles that traced every motion of his hip.

 

 

When Atreus rolled out of bed in the morning, he was greeted by an empty bed where his father should be and the smell of cooking meat. Curious, he slipped out of the cabin to see at least ten dead deer laying or strung up around the clearing. Blinking, he rubbed his eyes. No, that was still his father, sitting around a large fire carving out strips of flesh with the Chaos blades. Atreus looked more carefully. Was father… cooking the meat with them?

  
Looking up Kratos called out. “Come, boy.” Atreus approached cautiously, confusion racing through his sleep-bleary head.

  
“What _is_ this?” He asked as he took a seat next to the large man.

  
“Meat. You will eat that before we leave.” His father pointed to a pile of cut off venison at least as tall as the small boy. Atreus felt his jaw drop open.

  
“Don’t forget the berries!” A voice pipped up from the next stump over. Mimir used his eyebrows to gesture to a wooden bowl beside the cooked game, filled with small black berries.

  
Kratos nodded. “And that.” He paused. “For a balanced diet."


End file.
